Parting of the Ways
by Pales Megami
Summary: It's three in the morning; time for Daisuke to say good-bye to Dark. One-shot fic on Dark's departure. Slight sap, not enought to gag on, though. R/R, please ^^


Parting of the Ways  
  
by Pales Megami  
  
D.N.Angel  
  
Spoilers: Uh. None, really.  
  
Disclaimers: Usual disclaimers apply. Don't sue me; I have no money.  
  
A/N: Eh. My first, and possibly *only*, D.N.Angel fic. If the characters seem OOC, I apologize. I don't receive the Asuka magazine, and the only connection between me and D.N.Angel is Sakura-san's OFFRAMP site at Neutralred.net. (Lovely site, btw; definitely worth a visit--or two. Or three.) So try not to scream too loudly while reading, hmm? Fic inspired by The Mayfield 4's "Eden (Turn the Page)," Daisuke's POV. R/R, please ^_^  
  
  
* denotes emphasis on a word  
/ denotes Daisuke's thoughts  
// denotes Dark's thoughts  
  
  
  
  
A sudden breeze tousels her hair, gently brushing it against her cheeks. I move in a little closer until our noses barely touch. Her hair, her eyes, her lips... everything about her is absolutely perfect. She parts her mouth; I lean in a little more, so that I can hear her whisper in my ear.  
  
"Daisuke..."  
  
I blink. Since when did Riku seem so... so *manly*? Was her voice always so low and baritone? Did she always sound so much like--like Dark....  
  
//Daisuke.//  
  
/...Dark?/  
  
I groan and pry open my eyes, blinking away the remains of sleep. 3:19, the alarm clock blares. I groan again. This had better be important. Thank Kami-sama that tomorrow--wait, check that--*today* is Saturday.  
  
/What is it?/ I grumble mentally. No answer. Fine. I'll just go back to sleep then.  
  
He interrupts me in mid-snore. //No, Daisuke, don't. Don't sleep.// I can almost hear him shift uncomfortably. //Not now. It's important.//  
  
/What is?/  
  
Silence.   
  
/Daaark~!/  
  
//*Okay*, okay,// he snaps. //Just... just don't fall asleep.//  
  
I sit up in bed, curling my legs under my chin. /I won't./ When he doesn't answer, I begin to feel nervous. Worried, even. Usually, he'd bombard me with his usual banter and teasings, regardless of whether it was three in the morning or in the afternoon. There was none of that now. Even his tone of voice lacked the flamboyancy, the *Dark-ness* that made him--well, *Dark.*   
  
//Good,// he finally replies, then lasps into silence again. Had he not sounded so serious, I would have felt annoyed. Wait... serious? Dark? Dark Mousy being *serious*? Now I know something is wrong. Frantically, desperately, I poke and prod at him in my mind. Anything to get him to talk to me. Anything to find out what was wrong.  
  
//Oi, oi.// I breathe a sigh of relief at his voice. //I'm still here, don't worry.//  
  
/Dark, we need to talk. Now,/ I add as emphatically as I can. /Tell me what's wrong./  
  
He sighs. A tired sigh; almost a sad sigh. Uh-oh... //Daisuke, what would you say...//  
  
/Hn?/  
  
//What would you say if--// He takes a deep breath. //IfItoldyouIhadtogo?//  
  
Pause. /What, go to the bathroom?/  
  
//No! Daisuke, I'm not kidding around here.//  
  
/You mean, if you had to go-- go-- oh gods./  
  
It finally dawns on me. The meaning of his words. I am hit by a ton a bricks. I am splashed by a wave of icy water. I am gripped by a vice, by *fear*, fear that there is even a chance that... no. No. It's not possible, it can't be. I force a laugh. After all, Dark didn't say that he was actually leaving did he? No. He simply asked what I would do *if* he left. *If*. Which means he's not leaving. Haha. Of course not. Silly me. Haha.   
  
//'Oh gods' is right.// I hear him close his eyes, lean back against the walls of my mind. //Well?// he prompts.  
  
Oh. Right. His question. I mentally shrug, trying to be as non-chalant as I can. I mean, he wasn't going to go, right? /I would, um, heh.../ Come on, Daisuke, just answer the question! /I'd... well.../  
  
He waits patiently for my answer. And it isn't until now, in the roaring silence in my head, that I realize that I really *didn't* know what I would do. All the days, weeks, months that I'd been with the kaitou, I never stopped to think *what would happen if he left*. He'd always just *been* there. For me. Always. Maybe I complained about the curse. Maybe I complained that he was annoying, that he was a bother and an interferance. But that's what made him Dark. That's what makes me like about him, that's *why* I like him. Dark. Dark, who was now telling me he wouldn't be there anymore. What would I do? What would I do without him? I don't know, Dark, I want to scream. I don't know. Just don't leave, please... I don't know...   
  
"I don't know." My voice is a whisper; husky, raspy. "I don't know what I would do... I don't know what *to* do..." So I do the only thing I can think of: I begin to cry. And he lets me. For ten painful, quiet minutes, I soak my pajamas with hot, salty tears, burbling nonsense into my arms. The only comfort he gives me is his silence; his silence is the only comfort I need. He only speaks again when my sobs subside into sniffles and hiccups and my breathing slows to an even, though shaky, rhythm.   
  
//I'm sorry, Daisuke.// Smoothe, deep, soothing. I exhale a little easier. It's not your fault... the words die in my throat. They crumble in my head. It's not your fault.   
  
//I just want you to listen now. I'll explain, so just listen.//  
  
I wouldn't have been able to talk anyways. I couldn't bring myself to force anything out of my mouth or into my mind. My head felt like a garble of color. Everything swam around and around, not making any sense at all, changing and twisting and reshaping. Everything except Dark.   
  
//She knows, Daisuke.// She? Who? //Riku, I mean. I don't know how, but that doesn't really matter in the end, does it.// He gives a hollow laugh. //She knows, though, about me being you, and she-- she accepts it. She *believes* it, and it's OK with her. That's why I have to go.//  
  
//You know what the funny thing is, though? I'm not even *sure* if Riku found out.// So... so you don't *have* to go... //But I feel it, Daisuke. It's there, the knowing, and it's pulling me away. Even now, it's like someone's tugging at my arm, trying to get me to go. I can't stay. I'm sorry. I wish I could. I guess that's just the ways things go, ne? People come, and people leave. Things happen. I just wish they wouldn't happen to us.//  
  
I can feel it, too. The tugging. It was like two pieces of velcro slowly being split apart, and there was nothing I could do to stick them back together. I have to say something, before they completely separated. But what do I say? There are too many things I want to tell him: how I don'tt want him to go, how I don't know what to do, how he affected me, changed me... I want to go back and laugh at all the stupid things we did. I want to remember all the museum escapades and narrow escapes from Hiwatari-kun. I want to apologize for all the impatient remarks and complaints. I want to tell him--  
  
"I'll miss you, Dark. You're wonderful."   
  
He smiles; no, *grins*. //Right back at ya, kiddo.// There. There was the Dark I knew, I loved, I guess. There was the Dark who looked after me, the Dark who protected me. The Dark I was going to miss, the Dark I would never forget. Never.  
  
//Promise me one thing, though.//  
  
/Sure. Anything./  
  
//Promise me you'll have lots of kids.//  
  
/.... Nani...?/  
  
//Preferably sons.// He grins again.   
  
I smile back. /Sons? I'll try./  
  
//Hey, I didn't say *try*. You *will*. Promise me, Daisuke.//  
  
/Hai. I promise./  
  
//Good. I'll be waiting, then.//  
  
I settle back into bed, fighting away fatigue. /Dark.../  
  
//Shhh. Sleep now, Daisuke. I'll be waiting for you. I promise.//  
  
*~*~  
  
He isn't there when I wake up. His absence seems like an endless cavern, a huge cavity in my head. I do not hear the birds outside my window. I do not hear my mother banging around the kitchen. All I hear is nothing, and the nothing is deafening. He'd always just been there. His presence had melted into the background; it *became* the background. It was like the humming of the computer, or the ticking of the clock: You really don't know it's there until it stops.   
  
I really don't know what to do. The loss of Dark seems to have gotten me lost as well. Suddenly, I was a child trying to cross the busy street alone, without any hand to hold on to. The emptiness inside my mind... it hurts. I need to fill it with *something*, anything to make it go away. Ah. My assignment notebook for school; it's lying open on my desk. Maybe there's some homework I can do...? I drag myself out of bed and hobble to my chair. My head is throbbing now, throbbing with nothingness. Letters and lines and boxes stare at me; they mean nothing. I stare back. Why do I need my assignment notebook again? Is there something I need to do? Think, Daisuke... you can do this. You can live without Dark. Dark... I reach for a pen. Flipping the page of the notebook, I find the box labled "Long Term Assignments" and set the tip of my pen on the paper.  
  
'Have lots of kids. Sons.'  
  
Perfect.   
  
"Daaaaisuke-chan!"  
  
My mother pokes her head around the bedroom doorway. "Oh, I'm glad you're up, Sweetie," she chirps. "Get dressed and come down for breakfast, OK?"  
  
"Hai." I muster the most cheerful smile I can manage, which is immediately abandoned the moment the door clicks shut behind her. Bleah. Might as well get dressed. Not like I was going to do anything else. I guess I'll go for baggy today; something comfortable, loose. It might make me feel better. I fling open my closet.   
  
I want to cry.  
  
They're all there, every single one of them. Dark's costumes all lined up on hangers next to my own clothes. The emptiness is so painful my head feels like it's going to explode. I want to throw them all away, burn them, forget about them... but I can't. I know I can't; I know I could never possibly do that.   
  
"It's not good-bye forever," I whisper, fingering the sleeve of a white shirt. "He'll probably want these when he comes back..."   
When he comes back. Yeah. He's coming back, after all. My hand brushes against something soft. Parting the curtain of flashy costumes, I see a sweater. No... not just a sweater. *The* sweater. The one I bought for him while shopping for clothes. Vivid purple, exactly like his eyes.  
  
It begins to rain. The gentle pattering of water against glass slowly fills the mental cavity. I release the sweater from the hanger. So like his eyes... I bury my face in the purple wool, smiling into the softness, as the rain comes down in heavy torrents. 


End file.
